


Resonate

by Helholden



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Roughness, Secret Relationship, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:52:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4154307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helholden/pseuds/Helholden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bathroom blowjob. Lydia has a foul mouth. Peter loves it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resonate

**Author's Note:**

> Because I haven't written enough Pydia smut. I don’t know what more to say. There is no timeline. Consider this a future AU with Lydia being at least eighteen (so as not to exclude readers who like the pairing but prefer to avoid underage fics).

_* * *_

 

Music pounds throughout the loft, resonating against the walls. Peter’s back is to the door as Lydia bites down hard on his bottom lip, causing him to hiss in state of pleasure blurred with pain, her nails raking through his hair over his scalp. As she releases his lip, Lydia kisses the spot softly and pulls away, but Peter grabs her behind the neck and pulls her back to him to capture her lips again. It’s easy to drown in the moment with the music beating bass into his skull.

 

It’s Derek’s birthday party. Everyone is here. This is the last place they should be doing this if they don’t want to get caught, but that’s also part of the thrill.

 

They have been seeing each other in secret for some time now. Months, even. No one has recognized it. Either they’re woefully ignorant or clueless as hell, but it’s made them more brazen with their dalliances. They can disappear for unmarked stretches of time, finding quiet, dark corners to rut into, until they have to return to the pack.

 

Either no one notices the smell or they just don’t comment on it, but Peter wishes someone would catch them already and get it over with.

 

Lydia slides her tongue along his, deepening the kiss until it’s nearly smothering, and palms him through his jeans until the back of his head hits the door as Peter groans. He feels her grin against his mouth. He makes another noise, a sound of dissatisfaction. “Teasing me in public isn’t any fun, Lydia,” Peter says against her lips, his voice coming out rougher than normal, “especially if you aren’t going to do anything about it—”

 

He’ll be lucky if he can get a cold shower in, but Peter doubts there will be time enough for that.

 

Lydia, however, has an entirely different plan in mind.

 

She lowers herself to her knees on the tile, her hands pushing up the hem of his shirt, unhooking his belt, and popping open the button on his jeans. Peter waits until she is at his zipper before he formulates an actual sentence.

 

“You know,” he adds with a ragged breath, “this is actually one of my fantasies.”

 

“Blowjob in a nearly public place?” Lydia inquires, looking up at him and raising a single eyebrow as she curls her fingers beneath the waistband and tugs down.

 

“No,” Peter says weakly, watching as she frees his erection from the confines of his pants. Lydia looks up at him again, wraps her fingers around the base, and stares at his face as she ghosts her hand along the shaft. Peter’s eyelids flutter, his eyes refocusing on her afterwards with an intense look. “Someone walking in on us, seeing you on your knees, sucking my—”

 

Lydia tips forward on her knees to flick her tongue against the slit.

 

Peter hisses, his hips jerking.

 

“For that to happen,” Lydia tells him, kissing the tip and urging a low gasp out of his mouth, “your back can’t be _blocking_ the door—”

 

Peter opens his mouth to make a smart comeback, but all ability to process words leaves him as Lydia swirls her tongue slowly around the head, casting her gaze up at him innocently. Closing her eyes, she moans as her lips close around him, sucking with a gentle pressure to get his blood pumping harder for her. She pulls back, and it’s torture when her fingers stroke with a light touch along the veins. “Poor little Lydia,” she whispers against his skin. Her tongue flicks out, causing his muscles to jerk again in response. “All alone with Peter Hale . . . ” She drags her tongue along the head more fully, and Peter’s head hits the door for a second time as he grunts. “Forced to suck his cock—”

 

Peter dissolves into a groan as she finally takes him in her mouth, closing her lips around him and hollowing out her cheeks as Lydia sinks down as low as she can. His fingers tangle in her hair, but he doesn’t force her one way or another. Lydia knows what she wants and she knows what he wants, and he holds her, but she chooses the pace.

 

She is slow with it, dragging it out, increasing the pleasure. Her tongue is skilled in all the areas of his weaknesses. She covers him completely with her mouth and slides up and down along the length, gazing up at him and holding his eyes until he breathes irregular at the sight before him, at the feel of her warm mouth as it swallows around him, and he tries to guide her with his hands. As soon as Peter does that, Lydia pulls off of him and sucks on only the head until he growls in response, thrusting into her mouth as he holds her firmly in place. Lydia moans, sending pleasant reverberations through him, and holds still as she lets him fuck her mouth with shallow thrusts until she pulls back from his grasp with a trail of spittle connecting them, lips glistening and red as a debauched grin curves them upward at the corners.

 

Knowing their time is limited, Lydia reaches out and cups his balls, rolls them in her hand as she wraps her lips around him and sinks down further than before. She finds a rhythm on her own without his help, working him sweetly. His eyes roll back as he feels her tongue swirl beneath him, and her whole head moves as her lips slide up and down along his length until his fingers bury themselves in her hair again and he starts panting like a teenager from her ministrations.

 

The feel of her warm mouth surrounding him, working him to completion with everything at her disposal, doesn’t take much longer for Peter to feel the familiar sensation of tightening just before his peak, and he lets out a broken moan as his eyes roll back. In reality he’s at her mercy, not the other way around.

 

Peter talks a firm game in public, but in private, Lydia holds all the cards.

 

“I’m about to come,” he warns her. Peter didn’t warn her once and he was so far in her mouth Lydia choked when it happened; it was a mess, it got everywhere, and it had felt _amazing_ , but she had been so pissed she refused to give him head for weeks.

 

He learned his lesson after that.

 

She pulls off him completely, startling him into looking down at her. Peter opens his mouth to ask what, but Lydia leans back on her heels and tugs him forward by the hips to follow her as she scoots a little bit away from the door.

 

“You want someone to walk in on us?” she asks, her voice a low murmur, tilting her head back and opening her mouth for him. Her hands are still on his bare hips as she runs her tongue over her top lip and leans in close. “Show them what you make me do to you when they aren’t looking, Peter,” Lydia whispers. “Show them how hungry I am for your _cock_.”

 

Lydia accentuates the final word, knowing how powerless he becomes when she talks to him like that. He bites his lip hard, feeling a fire stoke inside of him at her brash language.

 

Peter moves closer, cups her jaw gently in one hand and tilts her chin up, takes himself in the other hand and strokes. The beat of the music outside the door is louder than before, a different song now. More than a few have passed. Someone is bound to knock soon, if not barge in.

 

“You call this _power_?” Lydia goads, and she flicks her tongue at the tip, causing him to gasp as his muscles jerk. “I told you to _show_ them what you make me do to you. You want them to see, don’t you? Be an _Alpha_ , Peter—”

 

His face twitches with anger, and his hand leaves her chin to grasp the top of her head and tilt her back with more force. Lydia gasps aloud, but her eyes are bright as she smiles up at him, pleased with his response this time, and she widens her mouth a little further, breathing hot air on his skin as he shudders and runs his hand up and down his length with more vigor.

 

“Oh, yes, hold my head back,” she whispers against him, and Peter grits his teeth as he feels himself drawing closer with each pull—and Lydia knows it, and she teases him with every word from her lips. Her hands run up and down his legs slowly, bunching up the loose fabric of his jeans. “Hold me in place, baby. Come in my mouth. Make me swallow it. Let them walk in. Let them see me like this. See me on my knees, my tongue out and your cock on it, yes, please—”

 

Lydia moans, holding out her tongue, and he’s close, so close, so he places the tip on her tongue and watches and feels as she swirls her tongue just below the head and his balls tighten before his muscles throb and he comes, covering her tongue and the inside of her mouth with pulses of white.

 

She moans with each surge, vibrations thrumming through each sensitive nerve until he’s spent, and even then, she isn’t done.

 

When his grip atop her head loosens, Lydia tips forward to close her lips around him and suck him dry, issuing a hiss from his mouth. She swallows it down with her lips still around him, and his knees go weak from it. Peter has to reach out a hand and steady himself on the counter before he falls.

 

Lydia pulls back, making a sound of disappointment in her throat, and gingerly wipes a single finger at the corner of her mouth. “Well, I guess no one got to see that but you . . . ”

 

Lydia pushes to her feet, and Peter surprises her by catching the back of her neck and pulling her in for another kiss, the lingering taste of him still on her tongue. He groans into it, and Lydia places a hand against his chest and deepens the kiss until they both slowly pull away.

 

“I bet no one even noticed we were gone,” Peter finally says, stroking his fingers along her chin. Lydia lets her eyes drift to a close, leaning into the touch.

 

“Do they ever?” she murmurs back, smirking, and then she pecks his lips with a quick kiss. “I think we escaped for a whole hour when we had sex in the laundry room.” Lydia purses her lips. “Maybe the fabric softener masked the scent.”

 

Peter grins as he runs his hand along the side of her face. “Is it _so_ impossible for them to fathom?”

 

Lydia shrugs, making a face. “Maybe.”

 

Peter runs his fingertips along her chin. He wants to kiss her again. Slowly, this time, and softly, and slide his fingers into her hair and hold her. She is absolutely decadent when she is alone with him—but as much as he loves it, sometimes he just wants to keep her near. Just that, and nothing else.

 

Lydia smiles, giving him another quick kiss, before pulling away. She straightens herself in the mirror, fixing her clothes and touching up her makeup. Peter takes the moment to pull up his pants as well and straighten his own self out.

 

“I’ll leave first,” she says. “You can come out a few minutes later.”

 

Peter opens his mouth and wants to say something about walking out with her, consequences be damned. He really wants to see the looks on all of her friends’ faces, truth be told, but Lydia is gone before he can form the first word. It catches in his throat and remains unsaid, the door closing quietly behind her. Peter waits in the following silence, trying not to think too hard now that he’s alone with all of his thoughts. When two minutes pass, it’s enough time for him, so he leaves.

 

As he pulls the door shut, Peter looks up.

 

Across the loft, Derek locks eyes with him. Derek’s eyes narrow, brow furrowing at his uncle, and he cuts them across the room. Peter follows his nephew’s gaze, knowing what he’ll find on the other end.

 

Lydia Martin, laughing with all of her friends as she holds a cup in her hands.

 

Peter cuts his eyes back to Derek just in time to see his nephew’s arms fold over his chest, a stern look settling into his features.

 

 _Well_ , Peter thinks, a sigh wracking his lungs, _so much for secrets_.

 

 


End file.
